Caught in Between
by limbortyioii
Summary: Megan's normal life is suddenly turned upside down as she inexplicably finds herself torn between the two warring worlds of crime and justice. Set in the 1920s
1. Welcome to the Club

Megan Morse made her way down the dark street, lit only by the light of the streetlamps and from the businesses that were still open. She was passing by the famed Hotel Sherman, which was very much alive inside. From the window she could see people sitting or standing in the lobby, no doubt looking for a vacancy. The street itself wasn't completely devoid of people, there were a few here and there, but mostly everyone was inside, wherever the parties were held, kicking their feet to the new Jazz craze that arose almost overnight. And it was there were she was headed, one of her friends had invited her to a party she was holding and - with permission from her uncle of course - she accepted.

Her heels clacked on the sidewalk, the loose ends of her sash swishing this way and that. She was quite fond of her dress and glad that her uncle had agreed to purchase it for her. She didn't know how he was going to react to her liking of the new flapper fashions. He was used to seeing the longer, more conservative dresses of the Victorian era and not the new bolder fashions that swept the nation. To her surprise, he had reacted better than she had expected and had no qualms about letting her divulge in her new found tastes. Of course, it came with a condition; she would be allowed to follow the new fad, as long as she refrained from the more unsavory practices of the flappers. Megan agreed and would stay true to her word. Her new dress was a sleeveless, shapeless little number (which was all the rage these days) of a light powdered blue color with a gold sash tied at an angle just a little below her hips. It dropped to about her knees and on her feet were black T bar shoes with low heels. She topped the look with a white cloche hat that rested over her now short red hair. A touch of rouge for her cheeks and lips and she was ready for a night of dancing and merriment.

She came across a break in the street, an alleyway and stopped for a second, debating on whether or not to take the shortcut. Megan decided she would and turned the corner, delving into the darkness of the alley. The lamps offered little light as she walked in deeper, but she kept her eyes focused on the other side and her thoughts on the festivities she would indulge in later. Then she heard steps and immediately stopped, her senses on alert. They stopped when she stopped and as she waited she was only met with silence, save for her breathing. Megan smiled to herself for being so paranoid and continued on her way. Once more she heard the footsteps and was about to pay them no mind, until she heard a voice call out.

"Hey!"

Instead of stopping, she quickened her pace, not bothering to look back. Her heartbeat quickened in her chest.

"I said 'hey'!"

This time she broke into a run, the sound of her heels hitting the pavement echoed in the alleyway. She chanced a quick glance behind her and to her shock, a dark figure was chasing her, although there was considerable distance between them. Unfortunately they were almost catching up to her. She forced herself to run faster, hand clutching her hat. She noticed a small light up ahead, signaling the presence of a door. She ran to that door, up the three small steps that led to it and turned the knob. The door wouldn't budge, so she desperately pulled, panting with exertion. She didn't dare look to see where the person chasing her was and instead tugged harder. Finally, after one last pull, the door wrenched open and she quickly stepped inside, slamming it close behind her.

Megan leaned back against the door, hand to her chest as she caught her breath. From now on, she was _never_ going into an alleyway alone. At least now she was somewhat safe, but she had no clue where she was. The place she had entered was dark and seemingly empty, the floor beneath her shoes felt hard. She expected someone to flip a switch and demand to know what she was doing, or a hand to grab her from the dark, but no such thing happened. Megan let out a relieved sigh, then gasped as the door opened behind her and fell back. Someone's arm caught and steadied her. She looked up, eyes wide with fear and she finally saw who her pursuer. A young boy, about her height, with emerald eyes and short red hair.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Megan nodded, unable to say anything, half expecting him to pull out a weapon and demand she hand over all her valuables, or worse.

"Sorry for scaring you like that," the boy said, grinning. "I was wondering what you were doing out there all alone."

He helped her up and walked past her, into the room. With the small amount of light that filtered in, she could make out that she was some sort of small storage area. She could make out crates stacked on top of each other littered all over the room, and a few shelves on the wall filled with tools and other items. The boy found the cord of an over head swinging lamp and pulled, bathing the room in light. Now that she could see him clearly, she noticed he was wearing a pair of black pants held up by suspenders and a light yellow shirt with a bright red tie. On his head he had a flat cap covering part of his hair. He walked back to her, closing the door and leading her further inside.

"Hi, my name's Wally. Wally West, nice to meet'cha."

"Megan. Wh-where exactly are you taking me?"

She leaned back a little and eyed him warily. He seemed nice and so far he wasn't doing anything to hurt her, but something about him seemed odd.

"I'm treating a lovely lady to a drink," he said. He motioned for her to follow him. When he noticed she wasn't following, he turned and looked at her. "What's wrong?"

"I'm...supposed to be at a party," she said, taking a careful step back.

Wally grinned and walked up to her, taking Megan's hand - much to her surprise - and tugging her along, out the door on the opposite wall. She was surprised to find that the small room led into the back area of Hotel Sherman's lobby. None of the guests inside nor the staff noticed their arrival, they were too busy engrossed in their own conversations.

"I'll show you where the real party is," he said and began leading her up the large, winding steps that led to the hotel's upper floors.

"I really don't think I should. My friend is going to start worrying where I am," she protested, trying to wriggle her hand away, but he held fast.

"Aw, come on! Once you see, you're not gonna want to leave."

When they reached the top, he kept going, passing hotel guests and staff along the way. Every now and again, he'd be greeted and wave back. He finally stopped in front of two mahogany doors, in front of one of them was a plaque that read 'Ballroom A'. There were two men dressed in suits on either side of the doors, hands behind their backs. They took one look at Wally and Megan, and rolled their eyes.

"Hi guys. She's a friend of mine," Wally said to both.

The men nodded and one of them took the handle and opened the door for them. Wally thanked them and led Megan inside.

She was greeted, not by a simple ballroom, but by an entertainment establishment. Chairs and tables (most of which were occupied) were placed along the walls, leaving enough room for people to dance the night away on the makeshift dance floor as jazz streamed from a live band, perched atop a stage placed again the wall in the far corner. On the left, was a bar, the shelves behind were filled with various bottles of marked alcohol and empty glasses ready to be filled. A few bar stools were already taken and the bartender - a pretty young girl with finger waved blonde hair pulled into a chingon - served the customers. There were even a few waiters walking around with trays filled with drinks and snacks.

"What is this place?" Megan asked as she looked around. Obviously the door plaque was just a guise, to hide what was really behind the doors.

"Welcome to the Valentine Club," Wally said with a huge grin. "Most prominent speakeasy in all of Chicago."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** For a while, I've been wanting to do a story set in the 20s. Don't know how I came up with using the YJ cast, but anyways. Of course, the story isn't going to be 100% historically accurate (for example, the Hotel Sherman never housed a speakeasy withing its rooms), but I'll try to stick as close as I can.

For those who don't know; A speakeasy is an establishment where illegal alcohol is sold. In 1917 the 18th amendment was proposed, which would ban the sale, manufacture, and transport of alcohol in the US. The amendment was passed in 1919 and put into effect in 1920. It was believed that the prohibition would improve the health and well-being the American people (less crime, corruption, better hygiene, etc.), but it had the opposite effect as organized crime grew corruption continued to flourish. Speakeasies began to pop up, working in secret to keep selling alcohol and often bribing officers to stay in business.

Any reviews, concerns, criticisms, you know where they go.


	2. Announcement

**Announcement: This story is hereby _canceled_. I've got book publishing, travel, and other life things to take care of. User Grenouille Laide has expressed interest in picking up the story, so they will be continuing the fic in my place. I'm putting my trust in you, so don't mess it up. **

* * *

><p>"The Valentine Club?" Megan echoed, turning to look at Wally.<p>

He nodded excitedly and pulled her over to the bar, weaving through the people who had crowded around. They were all busy talking and watching the others on the dance floor, drawn in by the liveliness of the atmosphere. They were all dressed in evening wear; the men with their suits and the women with their dresses and headpieces, adorned with pearls or feather boas around their necks.

"This place is great, you'll see." He motioned for her to sit in one of the bar stools as he sat down on the one next to her. "Oy, Artemis! What's a guy gotta do to get some service around here?"

The bartender turned and glared at him, hand on her hip. Megan's eyes shifted from him to her and back. They obviously had some history together. She wondered if perhaps she was his girlfriend.

"Brought another plaything?" Artemis said, snatching a bottle from one of the shelves and pouring it's contents into a two glasses. She slid them across the bar, with more force than was needed, but Wally caught them easily in his hands.

"If you weren't so bitter, maybe you'd be out on the dance floor instead of stuck behind the bar," he replied as he handed Megan a glass.

Both glared at each other and Megan was sure they were going to jump at each others throats. Instead, Artemis turned around with a 'humph' and continued serving the guests. Megan looked down at her glass, wrinkling her nose at the sight of the clear liquid inside.

"What's this?" she asked, moving her glass and making the liquid slosh around.

Wally drank his in one gulp before answering. "Whiskey."

"No thanks!" She slid the glass over to him, leaning back from it as if it were the most repulsive thing she'd ever seen. "I don't drink."

"It'll loosen you up," he insists, inching the glass back to her, a wide grin on his face.

"No, I really should be going. Thanks anyway...Ah!" As she gets up to leave, he cuts in front of her and snatches her wrists, pulling her along with him to the dance floor, avoiding the moving bodies of the dancers. She suddenly finds herself within the crowd on the dance floor, in a flurry of moving feet and swaying sashes.

"Just one dance, please?" He pulled her close to him, not giving her much of a choice.

Megan bit her lip. She wasn't comfortable in this place, even if it was lively and seemingly fun. Of course that was probably the influence of her uncle speaking. Because at the same time, there was something bubbling up inside of her. It started when this strange young man first grabbed her hand and led her more and more into this underground world of illegal activity. Megan could practically hear her uncle's voice in her head, telling her to leave and not turn back. But the curiosity for this new world she encountered was slowly beginning to grow. Besides, just one dance wouldn't hurt.

"Alright," she said slowly, just as the current song the band was playing ended. "But just one."

As the band began to play a new tune, everyone kicked their feet in time with the rhythm of the music. Wally kicks his foot back and Megan's own mirrors him as they ride the upswing wave of music that begins to fill the room. At first she's hesitant and waiting for it to be over, but the more she bends her knees and stamps her feet with the music, the more that feeling slips away. A coy smile creeps onto her young face and this is how Wally knows he's gotten to her. Her foot kicks outward and she finds herself pressed just slightly closer to him as they dance. A slight blush begins to creep onto her cheeks and she tries to hide it. She cannot - however hard she may try - to hide the small laugh that escapes her lips as she's among the flurry of jumping skirts and sashes, women's and men's legs twisting from side to side, bending first one leg than the other. The atmosphere is intoxicating and if she didn't know any better, she'd say she had partaken in the whiskey she'd been served.

"Having fun?" Wally asked, having to lean in closer to be heard amongst the uproar.

"Just a little," Megan responded, still trying to hold on to that reluctance, even as it was already slipping away.

He raised an eyebrow at her response, not calling her bluff. But if she was intent on playing hard to get, he wasn't about to complain. Her facade was already slipping. Girls like her, that's how they where. Their parents always sheltered them from the wild and 'immoral' lifestyles of the modern society, but it only made matters worse when they slip up and they're suddenly among the 'wrong crowd'. Everything they were told not to touch, suddenly becomes curious and irresistible, like a child drawn to candy store.

As the music ends, the couples come to a stop, but do not move away as they normally would. The same could be said for Megan and Wally, although she did try.

"Once more?" he asked.

"I really shouldn't..." She looks up into those green eyes and it's almost hard to say no.

"Alright, alright. How about we take a break before the next one?"

She nodded and they made their way back to the bar. Artemis was still busy serving the customers as they came, moving back and forth.

"You should really loosen up. Think of this as my way of apologizing for that scare I gave you earlier," he said.

"I thought the drink was your way of apologizing."

"A two in one."

She laughs and then bites her lip again, twiddling her fingers. All that reluctance she felt earlier had slipped away, but the one thing she couldn't shake was that voice in the back of her head. The reprimanding voice of her uncle. Her resolve beings to waver and she's unsure of what to do.

"You know, I really should go. I promised my uncle I'd only go to my friend's party," she said, looking at him with guilty eyes.

Wally sighed, this one was going to be tougher than he'd expected. Why were the pretty ones always this much trouble? He racked his brain for a suitable answer to calm her down.

"We'll make a compromise," he said. "One more hour, then I take you home. Deal?"

"I guess one more hour couldn't hurt," she said, only too happy to stay and enjoy the night's festivities. But she still had to keep her dignity. "Then I go home."

"Let's go then," he said and pulled her back onto the dance floor.

She happily obliged and they fell into the familiar steps of the foxtrot, his feet moving forward while her's moved back, moving around along with the other couples. As they spun around, she found herself facing the bar and could have almost sworn Artemis was giving her a hostile look. The dancers moved in her line of vision and obstructed her view, so she passed it off as just her mind playing tricks as she focused on her dancing once more. They spent the rest of the hour this way, taking few short breaks in between, but all the while she was enjoying every minute. And at some point, she began to wonder if she would have had this much fun had she gone to her friend's party, with the same old crowd she's been around with over and over again.

"...and then BAM, he nearly gets his head blown clean off," Wally said, emphasizing the 'bam' with his hands. He had begun to recount an eventful 'run' (whatever that meant; he didn't tell and honestly she didn't want to ask.) that had occurred to him and two of his friends a couple of months ago. This was, apparently, his version of 'small talk' to pass the time as he escorted her home. Funny how they both had different versions of what constituted a normal conversation.

Megan stared at him as they walked down the street, on their way to her home. She was recoiling a bit from the gruesome details of his story. "That's...nice."

"It's a tricky business, y'see. One mistake and you're gone, just like that. But it is rather fun at times, so I can't complain," he said, adjusting his flat cap.

"And what sort of business would that be, Mr. West? I noticed you've neglected to tell me that miniscule detail." She signaled that they had arrived in front of her house and they made their way to the front door. It was a two-story construct, very charming with it's light yellow-cream color and near olive shutters. Their lawn was as well-kept as their house, with neatly trimmed grass and bushes near the porch.

"Nice house, what does your uncle do for a living?"

"Don't change the subject," she chided as they made their way up the porch steps. She squinted her eyes at him.

"Well...how about you come back tomorrow?" he invited.

"To the Valentine Club? What for?"

He nodded. "So I can show you what sort of business I partake in. And I can introduce you to the guys. Just be careful with Connor. He's got a bad temper."

"Listen Wally, I had a good time-"

"Good? Just 'good'?"

Megan rolled her eyes. "Alright, I had a great time. Honestly, I haven't had that much fun in ages. But it's just not right for a lady to be in such places. My uncle would never approve."

"Then don't tell him," Wally said, snatching up both of her hands. "It'll be our little secret."

"I could never-"

"Oh come on, we might be involved with...certain, almost insignificant, criminal activity, but we aren't kidnappers or anything. You'll be fine, plus, you'll be with me."

"That's what I'm worried about," she frowned, remembering his earlier story.

"Just come. If you don't like it, I'll bring you back. I didn't disappoint you tonight did I?"

"No." She sighed. "Alright Wally, what time?"

"Come at around noon, if I'm not around wait for me at the bar. Don't worry, Artemis will probably be there too so you won't be alone."

"Fine, but promise to bring me straight home when I ask and no more dilly-dallying like tonight."

"I promise, I promise. See ya tomorrow then." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her cheek, much to her surprise.

He waved goodbye with his flat cap in his hand and scurried off into the night. She waved after him, wondering just what kind of friendship ties she was beginning to get herself tied in with.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. I promise, the next chapter will feature some new characters. I didn't want to cram everyone into this one.

As for the pairings in this fic, don't judge who's with who just yet. There's still more to come. I won't say which pairings will be presented, I'll just let you see where it goes from here. Thank you for the suggestions, but I pretty much know where this fic is going to and who's playing what role. I do appreciate the input though. Oh and no, the cast will not have powers in this fic, since it's placed in the Roaring Twenties. I could add them in, but that wouldn't feel right to me. Anyways, hope you like this chapter.

Questions, comments, critiques, you know where they go.


End file.
